but the urban-myth about the girl and her boyf whose car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, so he goes for help and she falls asleep in the car and is woken by a mysterious banging noise on the roof of the car used to freak me RIGHT out.....

my family used to own an old hotel in the wicklow mountains. people used to say it was haunted, especially 'room 2'. guests would leave and check out in the middle of the night, saying they couldn't stay in the room anymore.

one day my mum was in the hotel on her own - no guests/staff/anything. she was clearing out a room and put all the cups/plates outside the room door. a bit later she left the room to go down the stairs and someone/thing had lined all the cups&plates across the top of the stairs so she'd nearly trip down them.

Once there was a a beautiful young girl who lived in a small town just south of Farmersburg. Her parents had to go to town for a while, so they left their daughter home alone, but protected by her dog, which was a very large collie. The parents told the girl to lock all the windows and doors after they had left. And at about 8:00pm the parents went to town. So doing what she was told the girl shut and locked evey window and every door.

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Trying as best as she could she finally got the window shut, but it would not lock. So she left the window, and went back upstairs. But just to make sure that no one could get in, she put the dead-bolt lock on the basment door.

Then she sat down had some dinner and decided to go to sleep for the night. Settling down to sleep at about 12:00 she snuggled up with the dog and fell asleep.

But at one point, she suddenly woke up. She turned and looked at the clock...it was 2:30. She snuggled down again wondering what had woken her.....when she heard a noise. It was a dripping sound. She thought that she had left the water running, and now it was dripping into the drain of her sink. So thinking it was no big deal she decided to go back to sleep.

But she felt nervous so she reached her hand over the edge of her bed, and let the dog lick her hand for reasurance that he would protect her. Again at about 3:45 she woke up hearing drippping. She was slightly angry now but went back to sleep anyway. Again she reached down and let the dog lick her hand. Then she fell back to sleep.

At 6:52 the girl decided that she had had enough...she got up just in time to see her parents were pulling up to the house. "Good,"she thought. "Now somebody can fix the sink...'cause I know I didn't leave it running." She walked to the bathroom and there was the collie dog, skinned and hung up on the curtain rod. The noise she heard was its blood dripping into a puddle on the floor. The girl screamed and ran to her bedroom to get a weapon, incase someone was still in the house.....and there on the floor, next to her bed she saw a small note, written in blood, saying: HUMANS CAN LICK TOO MY BEAUTIFUL.

like when you get the 'little bobby grindrod is dying of cancer' e-mails where they get 4p for every e-mail forwarded I always go and check and then forward them the link that proves that there IS NO BOBBYGRINDROD.

In other (ghost) news: my Summer school was apparently haunted by the ghost of White Nancy, a nun who'd thrown herself out of one of the windows back when the school was a convent. One especially wicked summer my sis dressed as White Nancy to scare the younger girls in their dormitory but she looked SO frightening that we all shat our (metaphorical) pants and she couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.....

The next night my friend Caroline dressed up as Mumra. That wasn't v scary though. Especially as she put lipstick on over her bandages.

...at my University some exams were taken in the picture gallery. Whenever this happened one of the pictures was always covered up by a British flag because it 'caused students undue stress' or something. The rumour was that people who sat by it always went a bit crazy, culminating with the pencil-brain suicide which I guess is untrue, BUT the picture was always covered up during exams.

with the drowning, the murders, the mother, the death, the resurrection, the death, the resurrection, the death, the resurrection, the death, the resurrection, the destiny's child and the kiddy fiddler?

Lurks like Gary Glitter in a sweet shop. The numbing coldness of the whistling wind...the full moon breaking out in a vague air of white shapes...the time ticking as if one had frozen in purgetory...the darkness creeping up in one's shadows...the flames ignited in the fires of hell...